


Short Vacation

by Aithilin



Category: Final Fantasy XV
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Fluff, M/M, Peace
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-05-28
Updated: 2018-05-28
Packaged: 2019-05-14 20:13:37
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,533
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14776503
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Aithilin/pseuds/Aithilin
Summary: Noctis and Gladio had a few days rest in Galdin Quay before the next leg of their diplomatic trip. Just the two of them





	Short Vacation

**Author's Note:**

> For Gladio Fluff Week at Tumblr

Galdin Quay was not the perfect place, but it was close. Noctis still preferred the privacy and quiet of Cape Caem, but there was something to be said about the lapping of the turquoise waters against the low piers of the resort villa. About the history of the place as a fishing village that had just boomed in the past due to trade and the calm waters. He liked to lounge in his bed, and watch the sun set over the water, gleaming off the curls of whatever strange stone made up the wings of the distant Angelgard. He liked the way the water was so close here, that he could reach down to it from the private stretch of varnished wood that dipped a few steps down from the grand glass doors and the wall of tinted glass windows, the heavy drapes left open to light up the narrow room. The privacy of the place was absolute— the rooms set up in such a way that there would need to be a boat within a direct line of sight of the spacious rooms to even get a glimpse through open curtains; the extravagant suite meant to discreetly house the wealthy, the important. The royalty, no matter how rarely they indulged in the luxuries of their own kingdom. 

Noctis hadn’t wanted to stay at the resort at first— too anxious about attention in the dining room, on the waters, on the beach. Even if it was only for a few days before he continued on this little mission. 

“You going to get up any time soon?”

Gladiolus always seemed less appreciative of the scenery when they weren’t at a haven. Noctis hummed in response and pulled himself up from where he had stretched out on the little pier. His father’s boat was tethered nearby, a reminder that he was meant to be travelling soon. That he was meant to be preparing for his first diplomatic mission out to an allied nation. That Ignis had already been sent ahead to Altissia to sort out his schedule and the plans, and the last minutes of his whole trip. 

He would rather have stayed lounging with one hand in the clear, cool waters. 

“Only if there’s a good reason.”

Once they had arrived, there had been little fuss getting them checked in. Gladio had sorted out the details with a simple, gruff ‘there’s a reservation’ and had the staff scrambling to show them to their rooms. They had still dressed up for dinner— Noctis and his guard— and breakfast, and lunch when they thought of it. What wasn’t delivered to the room doors, or carried in by Gladio after a run to the market himself, was taken out to admire the view. Settled in at a private table, barely separated from the other diners, Noctis had spent most of the quiet first meal watching the stars ride across the waves, and the glow of strange bio-luminous fish dart through open waters. 

“Training should be a good enough reason.”

“Not while I’m on vacation.”

“Good thing you’re not on vacation then,” Gladio grinned as he dragged Noctis up the rest of the way to his feet. “Come on. And hour with me, then an hour fishing; sound like a fair trade?”

“Two hours fishing.”

“Fine.”

Noctis shrugged Gladio’s arm off of his shoulders, but fell into step next to his oldest friend. They had known each other since they were kids, had cultivated the same rough-and-tumble camaraderie their respective fathers had hoped for. Noctis remembered the long stretches of boredom when Gladio was away at the Crownsguard Academy for his education— the promises made between them to get better, stronger, that had fostered a rivalry that still burned strong. 

They had been training together for almost as long— cutting long days into practice session, games, adventures around the Citadel. Noctis remembered the way their fathers tested them, the careful guidance, the encouraging tips. The not-so-secret bets that often left Clarus grinning. But that was for years in the practice rooms, on solid stone or softer grass on the Amicitia estate. Even in the easier dusts of the Glaive training grounds, where the royally sanctioned rules of honour were tossed aside for dirtier tactics that they were assured could mean the difference between life and death. 

Now, out on the beach, away from the eyes of the people coming and going from the steady schedule of ferries and traffic, Noct still found himself struggling to keep up with his Shield. “What the hell, Gladio? I thought this was just a warm up?” 

The sand burned his hands as he braced against the fall, as he struggled to get back to his feet before the greatsword came down on him. He rolled to avoid the blade, and warped out of range; boots still faltering for purchase on the sand. Gladio recovered from the miss far too quickly; “No such thing as a warm up in battle, Noct. Get your ass in gear.”

“You sound like Nyx.”

“Ulric’s good at what he does,” another swing and Noct pushed himself forward beneath the horizontal arch of Gladio’s blade. Boot made contact with knee, and Gladio lost his footing on the sand. Noctis dismissed both of their weapons before either sword could do any real damage in their uncoordinated fall. “Shit.”

Noctis beamed his pride at knocking his friend off his feet, at the promise of a bruise that would form from the impact. Even as Gladio caged him in on the sand with his arms and weight above him. “I call that a win.”

“You’re on your back underneath me, Noct. If I had a dagger—”

“I have magic.”

“That’s always your answer.” But Gladio pulled himself up and offered his hand to his prince; “And that’s not a win.”

“Then what is it? I had you disarmed.” Noctis knew that he should have expected the move. He had been ducking it and dodging it since he was twelve. But the sudden shift of sand had thrown his balance off, and Gladio had the advantage of his bulk. He landed on his belly in the sand again, with Gladio locking him in place. Noctis tapped the ground with his one free hand, the other twisted behind his back as Gladio bore down on him to keep him pinned. “Fine! Fine, you win.”

“That’s more like it.” Gladio pushed himself up after releasing his hold again, summoning his sword back to his hand. “Ready for round two?”

“I hate you.”

“Good, that gives you something to focus on. On your feet.”

The hour stretched out to two, with Noctis furiously defending and parrying until praises were spilling from Gladio instead of the usual teasing. By the time Noctis could gain the upper hand— could move from acting against Gladio rather than reacting to him— he was too tired to even think about fishing. Covered in sand, sore, Noctis leaned against his Shield as they trudged back to the resort and their rooms. 

“You owe me.”

“Yeah, I owe you,” Gladio agreed, steal a quick, private kiss before moving to make Noct presentable for the short walk through the resort to his rooms. “Might even let you sleep in, tomorrow.”

“Oh, how generous,” Noctis rolled his eyes at the idea and swatted Gladio’s hands away as they approached the more populated bridge.

Noctis trusted Gladio to handle anything they would need, anything he couldn’t think of. He trusted Gladio to take some time himself, stretched out on his own bed, with a book and some quiet while Noctis bathed to get the sand off. While they talked about going for a swim, or seeing if a place as fancy as the resort had Cup Noodle, while Noctis did what he could to draw Gladio’s eyes off the page held open before him. 

The prince settled on a more direct approach, closing the curtains until only a sliver of the golden afternoon light was peeking in; until Gladio had to reach over to the bedside lamp if he wanted to keep reading. Noctis took the opening and settled in the spot against Gladio’s side, cuddled up to him until Gladio’s arm held him in place. 

“Want something?”

“Read to me.”

“Making demands, I see.”

“I’m allowed to.”

“That’s because you’re spoiled.” But Gladio smiled, turning the page to with one hand, while the other slipped to rest against Noctis’ hip. He picked up where he had left off— mid-chapter, mid-scene— in the middle of the latest adventure. 

When they arrived in Altissia, things would need to be more distant, more professional between them. Noctis and Gladio would need to keep each other at arms’ length for the duration of the diplomatic trip, the meet and greet of Accordo’s elected nobility. Prince and Shield. No matter how much safer Noctis felt like this, stretched against Gladio’s side, feeling as much as hearing the deep rumble of his voice as he worked his way through the novel. 

At least for now, the privacy of Galdin Quay, with only the stretch of the ocean ahead of them, could give them the stretch of a few days’ peace.


End file.
